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by gunboots



Category: The Pacific - Fandom
Genre: AU, Fix-it fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-01
Updated: 2012-05-01
Packaged: 2017-11-04 16:02:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/395623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunboots/pseuds/gunboots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>From the Pacifickink meme</strong>: Snafu taking care of Sledge in an apartment after the war. H/C.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> Standard disclaimers apply, reposted from the kink meme. Unbeta'd so watch out for errors.

Sledge doesn't mind the monotony of school, doesn't mind that he hardly relates to his classmates, or that often he's just heading straight home after lecture, politely declining rare invitations to parties. It's a shame, but he's got plans. Really he's got too much manners on him to decline outright. 

Instead, he gathers his things, gets into the car, and speeds home. At nearly the exact time, Monday through Friday, he opens the door to find Snafu already gathering things for dinner. He drops his things, they share a quick kiss--Snafu must complain at least once of course, because damned if they're getting soft--and he helps with dinner.

Snafu usually shoos him out after a while, saying something like "Damn rich boys would burn water" when really he means for him to just get started on his homework already so it's not in the way later when they're both wanting something much more physical. Sometimes, he'll relent and Sledge will be allowed to cut vegetables at least, but often, he's stuck sitting at the small dinner table, looking over algebraic equations and ignoring the way his stomach is pinning over the scent of freshly fried catfish filling the air, or étouffée, or if Snafu's feel gracious that day, his grandma's special gumbo. 

They usually sit around and eat with amiable silence, sometimes Sledge talks about school, sometimes Snafu talks about work at the lumber yard. Work at Mobile is slower than in New Orleans, but Snafu doesn't complain, he just smirks over the rim of his glass. Sledge almost always feels like saying thank you, but then Snafu gets cross and rolls his eyes. He doesn't ever want admit to Sledge out loud he was dying in New Orleans too. 

Sometimes they go out, sometimes they don't. Usually it's them staying in. Their apartment's a far cry from the luxurious sprawling estate Sledge used to live in, and from Snafu's own home near the water's edge, but when you've spent months at a time in a foxhole, their tiny one bedroom could be worse. At least the walls stay together when it rains, even if they're paper thin. 

One day, they'll finish saving up for a house, one day Sledge will graduate and they can move to wherever they want. Maybe they'll even be able to afford a new car too, is usually what Snafu adds silently, but outwardly assures Sledge that yeah he's fine with going on the bus, he's not twelve. And Sledge knows that too but it doesn't stop him from giving him a look. 

Even with the arguments though, they're happy. 

Because for now, as they lie next to each other on Sledge's old bed from home, as long as it's the two of them together. Things are just fine the way they are.


End file.
